at the narrow path with something like dread. “It just looks so steep.”
God, she really isn’t a natural skier. I make up my mind.
“I tell you what, give me your poles.”
She hands them over, obediently like a child, and I clamp them under one arm and stick my own out behind me.
“Now hold on to these, okay? Got it? One in each hand.”
She nods, and I push us off, very gently, using my thigh muscles to slow our descent.
With Liz’s weight behind me, pressing on my poles, the easy little schuss is much harder work than usual, but we make it to the flat, and I follow Eva’s example, skating along, pulling Liz behind me, listening to her panting breath.
At last we come out of the trees and glide down the slope to the bubble lift, where the others are waiting for us, standing just outside the turnstiles, underneath a painted wooden sign reading LA REINE TC.
“This lift is easy,” I say to Liz, reassuringly, under my breath. “No skiing on or off to worry about, you take your skis off and walk on.”
“Oh… phew.” Her expression clears a little bit, and then she glances up at the top of the mountain where the clouds are gathering. “What’s the rundown like?”
“There’s two stations. If you get off at the first station, it’s easy. You’re halfway up the mountain and you can pick either the green run, Atchoum, back down to the bottom of the lift, or the blue, which peels off down to St. Antoine le Lac. If you stay on the lift it goes right up to the top of the mountain. There are amazing views when it’s sunny but, well.” I wave my arm at the clouds that are already closing in. “Anyway, from the top station you have the choice of two runs, La Sorcière, which is a black run off to the left that follows the path of the lift, or the top part of Blanche-Neige. That’s a blue, but in poor conditions it can feel a bit more like a red. If you’re not very experienced, then I’d recommend sticking to the first station, just until you get the feel of your skis, anyway. You could always have a go at the second station after lunch.”
“Okay,” Liz says, and she looks up at the mountain, but I can feel her doubt from here. “Will you be with us all day?”
“Just for the first couple of runs. I’ll show you the way back to the chalet, and then I’m afraid I’ve got to go and help Danny with lunch.”
Liz says nothing at that, but from the way she clutches her ski poles like grim death, I can tell she’s not keen on being abandoned.
“It’ll be fine,” I tell her, with more assurance than I actually feel. “You’re not the only beginner, Ani isn’t very good, nor is Carl. And even Miranda doesn’t look very confident.”
Liz says nothing. She just unclips her bindings and pulls off her skis. But the look on her face is anything but happy.
LIZ
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It is almost noon. We have been skiing all morning. The wind is mounting. Erin disappeared back to the chalet long ago, leaving me alone with Topher and Eva and the other adrenaline junkies. We have done the green run, Atchoum, back to the bottom of the bubble twice, and a long blue down into St. Antoine, then back up the funicular. My legs feel like jelly with being continually on edge. My face is stinging with cold, and my armpits are damp with sweat inside my many layers. My breath comes fast, misting my scarf with wetness, and I am simultaneously freezing and much too hot.
We gather, panting at the bottom of the Reine lift, and I can hear the relief in Ani’s voice when she whispers, “Yay! Lunch!”
And then Topher says, as I knew he would, “Come on, time for one more before we break for the afternoon. Let’s go up to the top of La Dame. Second stop on the bubble lift. Which of you pussies is with me?”
My heart begins thumping in my chest.
“Wouldn’t it be better to stop before we’re all too tired?” Miranda says. I can tell she does not want to do this, but she also doesn’t want to be the party pooper. “I mean, it’s the first day, and we’ve got all week to get skiing in.”
“I agree,” Ani says. She lifts her ski goggles. Beneath,